What is the ANBU?
Its full name is the Assassination Tactics Special Forces.
They're the ones who live with their blades pressed to the edge of death. Surviving in the shadow of sunlight—that's the essence of the ANBU.
In a place like this, where the air itself feels suffocating, how could anyone still feel a sense of belonging?
As for honor? Forget it. That's just nonsense.
The ANBU are like a machine—an unending one. And its members are nothing more than parts of that machine, emotionless components keeping it running.
"I'm not insulting you," Hakken said, shaking his head, his tone tinged with thought. "I just think this mindset is wrong."
"Think about it. Everything the ANBU does—whether it's killing, infiltration, or intelligence work—it's all for Konoha's sake. They're contributing to the village."
"In short, they're heroes of Konoha."
"But here's the strange thing—these heroes never get recognized. Instead, they live stifled lives within the ANBU."
"Is that fair?"
Yeah… was that fair?
They all worked for the village. Why should they be treated differently?
"Everyone who joins the ANBU is an elite," Hakken continued. "So until I figure out how to change that mindset—until every shinobi in the village can take pride in being part of the ANBU—I'm not going."
Taking another sip from his gourd, Hakken spoke with quiet indifference.
You've got to be kidding me—being proud to join the ANBU?
Kakashi couldn't wrap his head around it.
Ken-san's way of thinking really was something else.
Itachi nodded slightly. He didn't know how such a change could be made; he only knew that following Ken-san was the right path.
By now, night had fallen, and the Night Owl Squad's training had ended.
Hakken strolled lazily through Konoha's streets, enjoying the cool night breeze.
From Itachi, he'd already learned that Sasuke's birth was near.
That was a sign.
If Sasuke was about to be born, then Naruto wouldn't be far behind.
Two reincarnations—Ashura and Indra, destined to love and clash—soon to play out yet another fateful story: "Today you're my friend, tomorrow you're my enemy."
But they would never know that because of certain choices, their fates—long before their births—had already been rewritten.
"Hey."
At the entrance of the street near the Mitarashi residence, a figure stood waiting. When she saw Hakken, she called out to him.
Lifting his head, Hakken's expression softened into a faint smile.
Uzuki Yūgao. It had been a while since he'd seen her. Judging by her look, she'd been waiting quite some time.
"Let's go to the baths. My treat tonight."
Without any hesitation, Yūgao stepped up to his side and, without a word, took his hand and pulled him along.
That familiar warmth.
Under the soft moonlight, the girl's cheeks were tinged with a delicate blush.
She wasn't quite sure what had driven her to wait here. Maybe it was simply hearing that the boy she cared about had returned to the village—and, after school, she couldn't resist coming to find him.
"Let's go to the baths together."
It was a simple phrase, but to them, it carried a quiet intimacy.
Only the two of them understood what it meant.
There was nothing indecent about it—it was as natural as saying, "Let me treat you to dinner."
But the speaker meant it innocently, while the listener might take it differently.
After the two had walked off, a small, stunned face peeked out from the doorway of the Mitarashi household.
Did that girl just say what I think she said?
She invited Hakken Yoru to take a bath?
"Hey, if some girl asked your little brother to take a bath with her, would you stop it?"
Bursting into the room and pushing open the door, Yugito called out to Anko, who was drying herself off.
She'd been stationed at the entrance to stop Hakken in case he returned, but after finally indulging in a long-overdue milk bath, she was just starting to relax.
"Oh, that's normal. Wash up and go to bed," Anko replied with a lazy yawn, clearly unconcerned.
It was just a bath—no big deal.
She knew her little brother well enough. His true capabilities were still being kept hidden.
He was just a kid, after all.
What kind of family was this?
Yugito rolled her eyes and gave up on trying to reason with Anko.
Apparently, the so-called Three Ninja Taboos meant nothing to them.
Forget it. Just wash up and get some rest.
With a sigh, Yugito headed into the bathroom.
As for a maid like her, she wasn't exactly entitled to a full bath. For a prisoner, being allowed to clean herself was already more than fair treatment.
...
"Hakken-kun, what's the battlefield like?"
Under the moonlight, the two of them walked down the quiet streets after leaving the Konoha hot springs. Yūgao Uzuki's silky hair brushed against Hakken's shoulder from time to time.
Though such words might have sounded a bit too mature for her age, there was something undeniably womanly about her presence tonight—something Hakken couldn't quite ignore.
Damn it.
Was he still weak to long, flowing hair?
"It's a place soaked in blood," Hakken said after a pause. "A place that makes men's blood boil. A place to grow stronger..."
He stopped walking, turning to look at Yūgao.
"And... it's a place I never want you to go."
Was that… a confession?
Yūgao's cheeks flushed pink as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
"When you graduate," Hakken said, patting her head, "come join the ANBU and help me out. I could use a secretary."
In Hakken's vision of what the ANBU should be, it wasn't all about fighting and killing. There needed to be support roles too—people who could handle intelligence and coordination.
In that regard, Anko was completely unreliable.
Yūgao Uzuki, though skilled with a sword, wasn't someone he wanted to see scarred by the darkness of the battlefield.
Still, the choice was hers to make.
"Okay. I promise," she said, nodding hard without a hint of hesitation.
In truth, it was exactly what she'd been waiting for.
Brushing off her own shyness, she had waited outside his home for hours—just to hear his answer.
And with this promise, she understood his feelings.
Sometimes, just walking side by side like this, without a word, was enough.
The evening breeze brushed past them, and under the soft moonlight, their shadows stretched long across the street.
Konoha's night quietly recorded their footsteps.
...
Where there is light, there must be darkness.
That was a creed some people lived by all their lives.
At that same moment, atop the Hokage Rock within the solemn expanse of Konoha's administrative complex, Danzō Shimura stood beneath the moon, his eyes fixed coldly on the shadow stretching before him.
Swish.
Space rippled. A figure emerged from a swirling distortion behind him.
"This is what you asked for."
Turning slowly, Danzō reached into his cloak, pulled out a scroll, and tossed it toward the masked man.
"What about the Two-Tails?"
Beneath the mask, the exposed Sharingan spun, its three tomoe rotating lazily.
"It's in Hakken Yoru's hands," Danzō replied coolly. "If you want it, get it yourself. Consider that your payment."
He gave a short, cold laugh and turned away.
Obito said nothing. He unfurled the scroll and scanned its contents, eyes flicking past the lines of intelligence detailing Hakken Yoru.
Then he stopped on the final entry.
"Nine-Tails Jinchūriki—expected delivery: October."